He got sick Tuesday at my parents' house. He woke up in the middle of the night screaming for no apparent reason and would not be consoled despite our best efforts. Twenty mins into the shrieking, I gave him a dose of Tylenol as a last ditch effort, and he quieted down. Wednesday was filled with a snotty nose, watery eyes, coughing, sneezing, and a fever. Praise the Lord, we were in the car most of the day, and he seemed pretty content to sleep at an incline in his car seat.
Then last night...well last night was probably the most bitter sweet experience I've had as a parent. Bitter because my little boy was in pain. Sweet because he clung to me as I rocked him, sang to him, and prayed desperately that he would be able to sleep. Bitter because he would often waking up crying, drenched in sweat or shivering, and sweet because he would nestle his head into my shoulder and coo at me as I tried to make him more comfortable.